The sun was hardly above the yard arm when CIA agent Jess Cufflink made her way across the sandy red road.
The red dust dusted her white toes and she cast her mind back to three weeks before, before all hell had broken loose and her once peaceful world had been shattered into a trillion pieces. ‘Like a packet of crisps under an elephant’ Jess thought to herself, ‘Or a baby ant run over by a tractor being driven by the fattest man on earth,’
Just then a little involuntary tear came down the cheek of CIA agent Jess Cufflink and her humanness shone through.
‘Like a disco ball,’ she thought to herself, ‘back home at Naughty Norma’s All-Girl Bar and Tackle Shop, where you and I used to dance, slow, moving round the floor like,..,… like one of those floor waxing machines with the big brushes,’

But Jess had no time for casting her mind back to happier times; she was here on assignment, an assignment she knew she had to complete…and complete fast.

For in a missing piece of satellite somewhere her on the floor of the desert lay a piece of information, perhaps a piece of information that may save the world, or indeed some of it.

‘The important parts,’ the President had said to Jess as she stood in the Oval Office accepting her assignment, ‘Like America and England and Australia and maybe Canada but only the bits where the skiing is good. And Texas. And that titty bar down on route 46. Might good tits down there.’
Jess had laughed remembering the times her and the President had spent at that very titty bar, sinking tequila and shooting the breeze and taking in the titties.

But Jess had no time for titty-bar memories; there were pieces of satellite to be discovered, people to be saved…and a broken heart to be got over.

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The sun had nearly set but not quite as Liz Monroe made her way down the quay to Nancy Jeans quay side bar. It was a place where she knew she would find solace amongst her own. She was a lady who loved ladies and here, at Nancy Jean’s Bar and Lady Love Dance Hall She would find the very peace she craved to heal her wounded heart.

As she swung open the door, the heavy beat of Melissa Etheridge greeted her ears and she made her way to the bar past the throngs of heaving lesbian bodies, breast against breast, feeling the beat of the music pulsing up from the floor through the lesbian legs and across the trembling mound of venus and on and up to their hearts and then faces. This was the kind of place Liz called home. And she was proud.

It hadn’t always been that way though. And Liz knew it.

Though tonight she wasn’t going to let that upset her. She made her way past the heaving throngs moving their bodies to the thump of Joan Armatrading and sat herself down at the bar on the only available stool. She gazed around at the plethora of lesbian flesh moving and grooving in time to the tones and tunes of Kd Land and felt her foot start to tap automatically without effort against the bar.

Joyce, the friendly barmaid with whom Liz had once enjoyed a brief fling, approached Liz and exclaimed, “You look like you could use a drink Lizzy”. Lizzy liked it when Joyce, the weatherbeaten former fisherman used her nickname. It made her feel one of the crowd and she smiled as she ordered a campari and soda and then turned back to see the heaving masses of lesbian bodies moving in time to Dusty Springfield.

As she sipped at her drink she though back to some of that lady loving she had shared with Joyce so long ago and as she watched the young set move to the grooves of Elton John’s Nikita she slipped quietly down memory lane and allowed herself to drift off to happier times, oblivious to the thump of the disco beat moving through her still suppole breasts…….”go on,” she remembered, “go faster”. And she was lost then, in time, the time of Joyce.

I couldn’t, little did she know. Since my accident I had been unable to go any faster than I was doing right now. But Joyce, I could sense she was the kind of girl who needed fast, and I, well, maybe I just wasn’t the gal for her. “Joyce” I said softly into her her ear, “I guess I can’t go any faster, my love”.
Joyce face turned toward me and at that moment I knew full well that our love was over.
It would be hard to love someone as myself. A woman, though strong in spirit, weak in the flesh.

Joyce eased herself up from the bed and looked into my eyes, “I care so much for you, but …I guess I need someone a little stronger than you. I could have loved you, though it would have been oh so very unfair on both of us for a love to go any deeper, a love that we both know would cause pain in the end.”
I had to admit that Joyce was right. I stood up from the bed and put some Janis Ian on the turntable and turned back to Joyce. “Would you care to dance my lady love”? I said and held my hand out to her.
She took my hand and raised herslef up off the bed and we moved tenderly around her caravan, both fully conscious that this would be our last dance. That tomorrow she would be dancing with another and I, I would most likely be dancing with no one.

Liz sipped at her drink and list herself to thought as Martina Navratilova’s new track spun on the turntable. She watched the young lady lovers move and groove and wished that she too had been able to move and groove in such totally homosexual manner. But life hadn’t turend out like that for Lizzy. And she knew it and that, that simple fact made her sad.

She turned her face away from the throbbing crowd and fished in her dungarees for her lucky strikes. As she moved the cigarette up toward her lesbian lips, lips that tonight, she knew, would not be meeting those of another, a hand came from no where and struck up a light.

Lizzy’s cigarette sparked in to life as she drew deeply on the filter, drawing the generous smoke into the eager lesbian lungs.
She turned to see who it was who had lit that tiny fire at the end of her lips.
And when she looked into the eyes of the women who had sparked that luck strike into life, she felt her heart stike into life once again.

And she felt a tiny fire light in other lips, other lips that hadn’t seen such light for such a long long, lady lovin time………

to be continued…………………

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he day was new by the time Cassie got out of bed to greet the day. She stood up in the door of the caravan and sipped her coffee. She heard a voice behind her. “Morning Cassie”. It was Annabelle, the new stable hand. Cassie looked at Annabelle and returned Annabelle’s cheery greeting. Just then Cassie’s top fell off and Annabelle reached out to help her put it back on. Annabelles hand accidentally touched Cassie’s nipple.
Cassie’s coffee cup slipped from her hand and the girls, by now sliding in the wet puddle of coffee, collapsed to the floor, unable to stay erect in the mucky caravan, their jodphurs becoming sullied with a mixture of brew and horse shit.

Cassie fell first, Annabelle coming down hard on top of her. Cassie let out a shriek as Annabelles soft mouth landed on Cassie’s freed and eager nipple.

Just then they heard a whinnying and knew that Madame McHundschpunk, the severe German riding mistress was fast approaching. Annabelle managed to free Cassie’s nipple from her mouth and make it to her feet just as Madame McHundschpunk came around the corner on Bradley, her gorgeous stallion.

Madame McHundschpunk threw a withering look in the direction of the girls. She knew what they’d been up to. The same kind of thing she’d gotten up to in the stables in her youth. Lady love knew no generational bounds, she thought to herself, in her native tongue.

“Annabelle, I want you to get over and feed and water Doug’s Bucket in stable one, and then muck out Hurt Nurse in stable 5. Do not let me down. Your performance is not so good this week. And you know your probabtion is up for renewal. There are a lot of eager girls who would like to work under me here at the stables.”

“Not likely” thought Annabelle to herself. As she made her way to the homes of the horses, her thoughts wandered back to her first night at the stables when Madame McHundschpunk had asked Annabelle to perform an anal exam on her. She claimed it was to check if Annabelle would be comfortable with her digit in a horse’s rear. “Pretty much felt like the same thing” she’d remarked to Cassie the next day when she had shared her misgivings about Madame McHundschpunk initiation into The McHundschpunk Riding Aacademy for Young Ladies. Cassie had laughed and told her the same thing had happened to her.
“I think it’s a trick she uses on all the girls, we’veall been through it. The girls had been sharing a beer and small talk for a while all of a sudden a storm flared up and lightening struck the caravan. The lights went out and as Cassie stood up to get a candle, her pants fell down and she fell forward, landing vagina first on Anaballes outstretched hand. They became entangled and fell to the floor, wedged under the caravan table.

They had lay their uncertain what to do, Annabelles hand stuck fast between Cassie’s thighs. “I know, said Cassie, “Here poor some of this saddle oil over your arm and rub back and forward, that might dislodge it.”
Annabelle did what she was told. She poured the oil on her arm and began to slide her arm back and forward between Cassie’s entwined legs. Just then the lights came back on and they saw Annabelle was naked. “Oh my go, exclaimed Cassie, “the lightening must have blown your clothes off.”
“I think you need to lie on top of me” said Cassie, who was still shocked by Annabelles state of undressedness, “the only way we’ll do this is if we both get completley covered in oil and slide around on top of each other. Your arm just is not going to budge, the more you rub, the further it becomes lodged against my clitoris………”to be continued

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Megan was a lesbian who lived in Stoke Newington, in a lovely big house full of pictures of pretty movie stars with their bosoms out of their tops and many pairs of trainers and some cats. Most people liked Megan; she was ever so friendly and loved to buy all the rounds at the Candy bar on Friday night.

One night, after she and her friends had drunk ever so many lovely pints of lovely brown ale, Megan met a lovely friendly young girl called Pauline, or Pauly for short. Pauly was jolly and fun and had ever so much debt on her credit card that after they had spent the evening making love with dildos, Megan said, “Oh jeepers, I know, why dont you come and live with me Pauly?”

It was such a jolly good idea that they had some more pints for breakfast and then got a mini cab and took Pauly’s cat and all her white vests and had a lovely hippety hop time moving in with Megan. The driver, a lovely man in a nice hat saw Megan and Pauly having a little celebration kiss in his cab and he said, in the happiest way with a big smile,If you do a show for me I wont charge you the fare.

The girls laughed crazily and then Megan, who’d drunk ever so much lovely sugary brown ale for her breakfast, sicked it all up in the mini cab and the driver threw her rolling and tumbling in a lovely fun way all along the street. Pauly came tumbling and laughing behind her. With that, they got up and took Paulys lovely little kitten, Scamp and they went on down the lane to Megan’s lovely home.

Once inside the happy girls had a lovely snack of toast and ecstasy and then some vagina and then said, I know, lets hop into bed now and sleep all the day away The laughed so much that Pauly had an accident in her trousers and Megan took them off her and threw them on the floor. It was starting out to be the loveliest of days and the girls, ever so happy with their newly found friendship, giggled until they could giggle no more and passed out on the linoleum.

The next day, Pauly woke with Scamp lapping at the sick puddle on the floor and the sun was so bright that the girls thought they had died and gone to Jamaica, or at least Lesbos, so they put on their bikinis and went to lie on the patio. The robins sung gaily in the trees and Megan said to Pauly, “Why dont we go to the football?”
“Hmmm, said Paula, I know why dont we go to the pub and play pool.”
They both shouted “hurrah in unison and ran inside to get their white vests on.

They skipped along the street holding hands, singing Ani Di Franco songs, and laughing gaily. A funny man with no hair and big fat black boots cried out, “You fucking lezas”, and the girls shouted back jollily, “Go fuck yourself you yob cunt.”

They continued on their merry way stopping only at the off license to get some roll ups. “I so love my roll ups”, cried Megan. “Me too!” chirped Pauly. “I know what Id really like now, a big fat spliff or some E”.
The girls, excited by the possibility of more adventures through drug taking, scurried down the hill toward the “Slack Flaps” and their gang of pool playing chums. Once inside the girls sought out their chums, Kate and Deanne who were nowhere to be found.
The girls, rather worried by this rather unexpected turn of events, went into the toilet to rub each other on the front of their jeans when much to their surprise they found……..(to be continued)

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The early morning was the best time for Gina Knub. She loved the daybreak calm of the blue Aegean. She loved the way the waves, that later on in the day would dance underneath her lilo, were at this hour, like the majority of the inhabitants of Skala Eressos, still snoozing.

She liked to wander along the shore keeping her eyes peeled for the little piece of broken and worn glass she liked to collect. She kept them in a honey jar back home in Peckham, a souvenir of her many happy years in this land of relentless blue skies and wind swept goats.

As she wandered the beach her mind also wandered, inside her head. It wondered as it wandered about the origins of these shards of smoothed glass of green, transparent and occasionaly read or blue. She wondered if somewhere out there, beyond the buoys and peddal-o’s there lay a galleon, steeped in treasure on the floor of the sea.

She thought of snorkelling and thought that maybe later on today she would snorkel to the cove at the end of the beach and play treasure hunter.

She glanced up at the hill that lay at the end of the beach like a whale that had leapt from the sea and now lay snoozing on the beach and listened to the bird song coming from the hill behind the village as she toyed with the trinkets of glass in her pocket. At that moment though, as she wandered the beach, something caused her to stumble and fall, her fall cushioned by a pile of cigarette butts and a deflated lilo. As she brought herself to her feet she turned to see what had caused her to tumble. She let out a gasp as she saw what had brought her to her knees…..A body. A body that looked like a girl. A body that looked like not only a girl but a homosexual girl…..and not only a homosexual girl, but a dead homosexual girl.

“It’s kinda lucky I’m a cop”, Gina thought to herself, “this will kinda make me feel at home”….

to be continued!

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